


Sanctuary be Damned

by PeacefulProcrastination



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: during the "choose me or the fire" scene to the end, not a "esmeralda chooses frollo" fic, really minor swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2685404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeacefulProcrastination/pseuds/PeacefulProcrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After this day, the spell of the witch will be no more. Just my take on the ending of Disney's movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary be Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, man. I finished this at 3 in the morning, posted it on fanfiction.net, and then fell asleep. I'm still as hell. I've never really written in this tense, so I gave it a try. There's probably one or two typos, because I was, and still am, half-asleep when this was written. First HoND fanfic, too.

Oh, man. I just finished this and it's 3 in the morning. I'm tired as hell but I wanted to write. I've never really written in this tense, so I gave it a try. There's probably one or two typos, because I was, and still am, half-asleep when this was written. First HoND fanfic, too.

###### 

_I will soon be free of your spell, witch._

The thoughts of redemption, of salvation, of freedom, are not as comforting as the Minister of Justice wished them to be. The torch in his hand feels heavy. The flames, oh, the dangerous flames, they dance, just like _her._ It takes him back, back to that night. His hands itch for the gypsy's scarf once more.

The woman in question, Esmeralda, stares at him expectantly. He can feel the sense of dread radiating off of her, akin to the heat of the orange flame. The audience is silent, save for a few whispers.

"What's going on?"

"What's he waiting for?"

Frollo glares at nobody in particular, gritting his teeth. His eyes lazily glide upwards to meet the woman tied to the pyre. His mouth slowly opens, his tongue rolls, and the crowd watches with rapt attention.

"The time has come, gypsy. You stand upon the brink of the abyss." He steps forward, unaware of the way she shrinks away from him. His eyes are wide, manic, even, as he moves. "Yet, even now, it is not too late. I can save you from the flames of this world." A pause. "And the next."

Esmeralda's upper lip curls in disgust, accompanied by a twitch of the right eye, as Frollo continues. "Choose me, or the fire." The torch is brought uncomfortably close to her face.

She wants to scream, to deride him. The nerve of him! But she thinks of something better. Much, much better. She throws her head forward, effectively sending a ball of mucus and saliva right in his direction. It hits his cheek, and his expression is one of hurt, for a split second. The audience gasps.

He flinches back, his free hand immediately wiping the spit off his face. When he looks back at the gypsy, her face is full of pure hatred.

_So be it._

He turns to the audience, holding the torch up high. "The gypsy Esmeralda has refused to recant! This heathen witch has put the soul of _every_ citizen in Paris in mortal danger!"

Esmeralda mentally rolls her eyes as the old man rambles on. She does not listen to him. No, her attention is on the cathedral. She can see Quasimodo, even from the great distance that has been out between them. Her friend is unmoving, head hung in defeat. The chains rattle slightly as her focus turns back to Frollo.

"...For justice, for Paris, and for her own salvation, it is my sacred duty to send this unholy demon back where she belongs!" His voice is sharp as his arm lowers. The torch connects with the wood littered around the woman's bare feet, and she vainly attempts to pull them away from the heat.

The fire is refreshing, Frollo muses. He watches with fascination as the flames slowly lick at Esmeralda's ankles. Her head lurches forward as a billowy, black cloud of smoke swirls around them, making her cough uncontrollably.

A sinister, menacing grin forms on his lips. All he can feel, see, hear, smell, and taste is the cleansing fire.

But, he is pulled from his trance. A loud bang makes his head snap to the left, just as Quasimodo rips an unconscious Esmeralda from her binding, just as the fire was to engulf her. Frollo's lips form words. _"Quasimodo!"_ He watches, helplessly, as the hunchback climbs back up Notre Dame, gypsy girl in his arms.

He can only see red when the monster has the audacity to hold the witch above his head and claim sanctuary three times. _Sanctuary be damned,_ Frollo thought, _for the witch must be mine._

He's spitting out orders at a million miles an hour, and only stops when a bang makes him jump. His chaperon is forced off of his head, and lands on the dirty ground, already forgotten.

Looking to the men that scattered when his carriage was crushed, Frollo hollers. "Come back, you cowards!" His legs propels him forward, and he pushes a soldier over, snatching his sword. "You, there! Take that beam!" He points with the sharp weapon. "Break down the door!"

There's a fight breaking out behind him, yet he does not stop and watch. His thoughts go from ways to kill that monster, to the gypsy witch. It makes his movements more frantic, manic, and he almost screams. "Put your backs into it!"

The men are steady with the beam Quasimodo provided, and with another push, a small hole cracks open. Just enough for a man to crawl through, and Frollo does just that when heat smacks his face. He glances up in horror.

Molten copper, yellow and deadly, is crashing down on him, and he has to move. Now. Without a thought, he hacks at the worn wood with the steel blade until it gives, and forces himself to get through.

He closes his eyes for a moment, sheathing his weapon. His march is unstoppable, and he merely shoves the lousy archdeacon out of his way. The fool stumbles down to the very bottom of the staircase, and Frollo hisses. "The hunchback and I have unfinished business to attend to. And this time, you will _not_ interfere."

He takes the steps, two at a time.

The only thing between Frollo and Esmeralda is the door in front of him. Oh, the monster is crying. Sobbing. the judge almost scoffs at this. How can Quasimodo _not_ see that he saved him from eternal damnation? From the witch, the temptress, the gypsy, Esmeralda?

Lies are what leave his lips, and he justifies them as a mercy to the hunchback draped over Esmeralda. However, when the boy lowers his head again, he takes action. "Now is the time to end your suffering. Forever." The dagger he hid behind his back is revealed, and in his shadow, Quasimodo discovers the judge's true intentions.

And he gasps. Defends himself. Frollo can see the fear, the innocence in his eyes. _Why?_

The wicked man is thrown back when Quasimodo shoves him with all his might. His back aches, and he groans. The hunchback raises the dagger, and Frollo raises a spidery hand. "Now, now, l-listen to me, Quasimodo!" This time, it's him who shrinks back, and him who looks on with fear.

The weapon is tossed aside as Quasimodo cries. "All my life, you've told me the world is a dark, cruel place! But now, I see that the only thing dark and cruel about it is people like _you!"_

Frollo has no chance to reply, as a weak, strained voice surprises them both. His blood runs cold.

"Quasimodo?"

The hunchback turns and holds Esmeralda in his arms, a wide smile on his face. Frollo unsheathes the sword, his voice a growl of disbelief mixed with fury. _"She lives!"_ He is absolutely livid.

"No!" The smile is wiped from the boy's face, and he darts out of the room, kicking the door shut to slow down the judge.

Frollo pursues them to the balcony. He swoops out, expecting to catch both off-guard.

Nothing.

His brow raised, he stalks over to the edge. Something pulls him over there, and a wicked, insane feeling takes him over. There they are, dangling off the edge of Notre Dame. The gypsy girl is right to fear him, and she buries her face in Quasimodo's shoulder.

Frollo's voice is full of glee. "Leaving so soon?" And he strikes, just missing the hunchback's thick, strong fingers.

"Hang on!" He manages to cry out to Esmeralda before he swings to the right to avoid another attack from Frollo. The older man grunts as he lifts the sword once more. Quasimodo is forced to hop from gargoyle to gargoyle, and gets a break when Frollo's sword is embedded in the stone. As he wiggles it free, the bell ringer pushes the gypsy to safety in the form of sturdy ground.

Frollo only jerks his head towards her. "I knew you'd risk your life to save that gypsy witch! Just as your own mother died, trying to save you." His voice rumbles in his chest, and he hears Esmeralda gasp from the left.

"What..?" Quasimodo looks heartbroken, and he very much is, as the confirmation of living a lie is forced on him. He's frozen on the spot, and Frollo takes advantage of the situation.

"Now, I'm going to do what I should've done _twenty years ago!"_ He tears the cape off of his back and swings it at Quasimodo, who stumbles and falls off the gargoyle, taking Frollo with him.

The wicked, evil man glances up as Esmeralda leans over the edge, holding onto the boy's hand in a weak attempt to make sure he doesn't fall. Frollo eyes catch something to his right, and a smirk forms on his lips. He gains momentum by swinging pback snd forth, and grabs hold of the gargoyle.

Just as he begins climbing up, the hunchback passes out. It's just Frollo and a helpless Esmeralda this time, and he knows he will win. The witch would die, and he would be free of the madness that claimed him. His laughter is deep, and crazy, as he pulls himself up onto the stone.

Esmeralda's eyes widen; he looks like a demon. His beady, black eyes train on her, and only her. He stumbles as he slowly brings the sword up, savoring every little moment.

"And He shall smite the wicked, and plunge them into the fiery Pit!"

And He did just that.


End file.
